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October 2, 2005
Elijah and Jonah
JewishEncyclopedia.com - JONAH.
While studying with a Carmelite community yesterday, someone brought up the point that Jonah is considered in Jewish Tradition to be the son of the Widow of Zarapheth whom Elijah raised from the dead. In the course of this book is was further asserted that Jonah was the disciple of Elijah. There are some interestesting parallels in the stories of the two men that might suggest the writers of the two books in which the stories are told were trying to make a point of this relationship--for example Elijah rests for a while, depressed and unwilling, in the shade of a broom tree. Jonah rests in the shade of his bean plant. There is even a Jewish tradition that Jonah, like Elijah did not die, "while Ecclesiastes Rabbah viii. 10 holds that the son (Jonah) of the Zarephath widow never died. The "holy spirit" descended on him while he participated in the festivities of the last day of Sukkot. . ."
At any rate, I have no opinion on this matter other than to say that it was an absolutely fascinating connection that had never occurred to me before. I don't know what to make of it, if true, but I am captivated by it.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:52 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Polygamy is a Right, Not a Privilege Says ACLU
WorldNetDaily: ACLU defends polygamy
And so it goes, precisely as Sen. Santorum predicted, from precisely the same cause. Lawrence v. Texas was a poorly decided piece of work which will have ramification for some time to come. (Which should not be read to say that I am in favor of anti-sodomy laws. They strike me as pretexts for the violation of other rights. But by having it struck down under the aegis of privacy, the door just may have been opened to a great many other ills--which people claimed would not happen.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 10:06 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Thoughts At Mass
God is passing by. He is not by passing. No, He is truly passing by in the great celestial parade. And that parade is eternal. But our time to join the parade is limited. God is passing by, every moment, every event, every heartbeat, every breath. God is passing by and calling to us continually--"Come, join the pageant."
Rev 22:17
The Spirit and the Bride say, "Come." And let him who hears say, "Come." And let him who is thirsty come, let him who desires take the water of life without price.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 8:35 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Meditation on 1 John 4:8b
For God is love.
1 John 4:8b
8 He who does not love does not know God; for God is love.
I don't think we can repeat this to ourselves often enough. This is the central lesson of the New Testament and the key revelation of our Lord. We do well to internalize this, to live as though we really believe it is true. And if true, if we accept it as revelation AND we understand that God is simple we are led to a single overwhelming conclusion--God is nothing other than love.
Now we have another passage of revelation that allows us to reflect more deeply on that mystery.
And of course I speak of 1 Corinthians 13
3 If I give away all I have, and if I deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.
4 Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful;
5 it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;
6 it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right.
7 Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
8 Love never ends; as for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away.
9 For our knowledge is imperfect and our prophecy is imperfect;
10 but when the perfect comes, the imperfect will pass away.
11 When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became a man, I gave up childish ways.
12 For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall understand fully, even as I have been fully understood.
13 So faith, hope, love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
I'll return to verse 3 later. For the moment let's consider the other verses.
4 Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful;
What does patience look like? How do we begin to fill in our portrait of God? You may find it difficult to believe, but in the entire Bible the word patient occurs only thirteen times (three times in the Old Testament and ten in the New.) The first occurrence is an incidental mention in the book of Job. However the second bears some mention for the insight it offers.
Psalm 14:17
17 A man of quick temper acts foolishly, but a man of discretion is patient.
We discover that patience is the opposite of quick-tempered and carries with it the further virtue of discretion. Discretion in this sense appears to mean moderate in emotions, even-tempered, perhaps easy-going. Ecclesiastes 7:8 reinforces this view of patience. To it is added that patience is a virtue opposed to pride and therefore allied with humility. (Ecclesiastes 7:8 Better is the end of a thing than its beginning; and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit.)
From James (5:7-8) we learn that patience is the virtue ordered toward endurance and standing solidly against disorder and flightiness. He calls upon us all to
7 Be patient, therefore, brethren, until the coming of the Lord. Behold, the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient over it until it receives the early and the late rain.
8 You also be patient. Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand.
The one who is patient does not take the crop before its time. Even though the early rains have come and the fruit has set and appears ripe, it is only after the late rain that it comes into its fullness and is ready for harvest. It is worth noting that James sees patience as establishment, steadiness, perserverance in place--calm waiting for the fullness of time, for the ripening of the fruit and the coming of the Kingdom.
From the Book of Revelation we find 4 verses (Rev 1: 9, 2: 2, 2:19, 3:10)which always contain the formula "patient endurance." Patience is the directed to length of days of waiting through times of great trial.
When we look instead to patience, we find a few more verses and learn a great deal about the fruit of being patient.
There are 19 verses. One of these and only 1 is found in the Old Testament.
Psalms 25:15
15 With patience a ruler may be persuaded, and a soft tongue will break a bone.
With patience, persistence, perserverence, complete dedication to the task a ruler may be persuaded. Patience is, therefore a virtue of tremendous power. By itself it can change the course of events. A dripping spot in the ceiling of a cave may over time develop into a thick, solid column of "living rock. " So patience attains its goal--"a soft tongue will break a bone." Patience makes the miraculous possible.
Luke 8:15 And as for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bring forth fruit with patience.
You bring forth fruit with patience. Patience, waiting through time, is all that gives life to the fruit. Time fills it to ripeness. Patience is rewarded in ways that nothing else is.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 8:40 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Carmelite Spirituality
I'm reading a treatise by Paul delaCroix, and it's conceivable that I may have something worthwhile to share tomorrow.
In the meantime, your prayers have borne a great fruit of personal peace. Thank you.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 8:42 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
A Blog from India
Jesuvera: Spiritual Adventures of a Catholic
I love insights from people living in other countries--it serves to broaden my own rather laser-like perspective. The blog-owner in this instance hails from India--a place to which I look for the coming renaissance in literature worth reading.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 10:43 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
October 3, 2005
Architeuthis Live and in Person
CNN.com - Scientists�photograph giant squid - Sep 28, 2005
Critically important news--from Eve Tushnet, I think. Thank you!
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:27 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Keats and Philosophy
Eve Tushnet, who I have somehow managed to overlook for all this time makes a post on poets and philosophy, with which I must take some small exception. (And as I'm far too lazy to e-mail, I figured I would just do it here.) My exception has to do with the particularly example of John Keats whom, she avers, has no "philosophical spine" to his poetry.
I would argue on the contrary that of all the Romantic poets he is, perhaps the most philosophical. For one example, in "Ode on a Grecian Urn" Keats "breaks" the famous platonic triad with his "Beauty is truth, truth beauty. . ." Goodness, as Mae West might say, has nothing to do with it. If this isn't a philosophical foray, I'd be hard-pressed to identify one.
Further, as can be sensed in a great many of Keats's poems, he is ardently a supporter of a philocophical aesthetic of intense experience. Even should that experience be painful, it should be completely embraced and indulged in. He referred to our present life not as "this vale of tears," but as "this vale of Soul-Making." If one reads "To Autumn" one is almost overwhelmed by the sense of ripeness and abundance overflowing the poem--a rich sensory overload. So, too, with "La Belle Dame Sans Merci" one is inundated with the lethargy also made famous in "Ode to a Nightingale."
In the Letters, one gets a much fuller sense of Keatsian philosophy. Indeed, his philosophy is so robust and so rigorous, it occasionally threatens to overrun his poetry. (For an example, take the fifth excerpt on this page, often used as an introductory read to the "Ode to Psyche.")
Now, that all being said, one might legitimately ask the question as to whether Keats's is a coherent or viable philosophy--which is quite another matter.
Contra Ms. Tushnet, I think nearly every poet writes out of a very strong philosophical melieu. I agree with her essential premise in that when I encounter a poet who has little or no world view--one who seems to be playing with words for the sake of play--I might momentarily be amused, but there is no "there there"--nothing to return to--the well is dry, with a thin sheen of water to deceive us that there is a depth to plumb.
In reading Keats's thought and philosophy, one must be careful not to overlooks the idea of negative capability as defined in one of Keats's letters to his brothers, George and Thomas Keats.
I had not a dispute but a disquisition, with Dilke on various subjects; several things dove-tailed in my mind, and at once it struck me what quality went to form a Man of Achievement, especially in Literature, and which Shakespeare possessed so enormously - I mean Negative Capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason-Coleridge, for instance, would let go by a fine isolated verisimilitude caught from the Penetralium of mystery, from being incapable of remaining content with half-knowledge. This pursued through volumes would perhaps take us no further than this, that with a great poet the sense of Beauty overcomes every other consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration.
While one might disagree with what he has to say, it undoubtedly constitutes a core or pillar of his philosophy. (If you google negative capability, you'll find a plethora of articles are arguing about what Keats actually meant when he used the term "negative capability."
Ms. Tushnet writes, "Keats, on the other hand, strikes me as a talented poet severely weakened by a tendency to lushness in absence of philosophy. (And this weakness of Keats in turn weakened Anne Carson's interesting mess, The Beauty of the Husband.)" I think what may be more to the point is that Keats's poetry is weakened (for some readers, not for me) by his philosophy which emphasizes lushness, or the primacy of experience as "soul-formative." I do think the statement holds true for some of Keats's poems. I've always thought "To Autumn," though lovely, was almost over-the-top in its "lushness" and its insistence on the sensory experience. That said, perhaps I should allow you to decide for yourselves. Without further ado:
To Autumn
John KeatsSeason of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cell.Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too--
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir, the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
In sum, I think it fine not to care for the poetry of Keats. I would disagree. However, I don't think it is his lack of philosophy that makes the poetry weak, if it is so perceived. In fact, it may be the very essence of his philosophy that contributes to perceived weaknesses.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 10:05 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
What I'm Actively Reading
Three books:
Great Expectations Charles Dickens--reacquainting myself with a classic
Gilead Marilynne Robinson--I'm not finding this as compelling as some St. Blog's readers have done. There's another set in North or South Dakota by Leif (somebody) that I liked better at least initially.
Carmel, Land of the Soul Carolyn Humphreys
On Deck:
The Master Colm Toibin
Portrait of a Lady Henry James (Not sure about this one, may do either Wings of the Dove or The Ambassadors (It will be one from the later period of James's writing.)
Posted by Steven Riddle at 10:37 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
New Nominee Draws Fire From Both Sides
Reaction to Bush's High Court Nomination - Yahoo! News
Rather than seeing how one interprets the law and sees the constitution, let's crawl inside their psyche and try to predict how they will judge every major decision likely to come before them. The Judicial Hearings with their emphasis on "reproductive rights" are a farce. Ruth Bader Ginsburg can take her seat without answering, but Planned Parenthood demands to know this woman's stand.
Frankly, all I need to hear is a firm commitment to interpret law and not to legislate from the bench. I don't need necessarily a strict constructionist--we live in the twenty-first century. But I'd like to know that the person interpreting the law is doing so in accord with the priciples laid down as the foundation for the law. AND that they are interpreting rather than finding new law.
Like development of doctrine, this can be a very subtle and nuanced thing. The line between the growth of the old and the espousal of the new can be very, very vague--very difficult to define.
As to Ms. Miers, I know nothing of her and cannot find reason for opposition based solely on the fact that she is the President's friend. Not a recommendation for me, but perhaps a heartier recommendation for those who are more enthusiastic fans of the younger Bush.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 12:12 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack
The Prayer of Carmel
from Carmel, Land of the Soul
Carolyn HumphreysOf all human experiences, prayer is the simplest and the most profound. The school of Carmel provides people with a means to explore their internal depths for a lifetime of prayer. Two primary necessities in Carmel are silence and solitude. Places and times for silence and solitude are not easy to find in modern society. God-seekers on Mount Carmel face the battle and babbble of the ages as they continually turn from peripheral living to searching for God. To live in the midst of the world and be not of it is an ongoing challenge. Silence and solitude are supports that link the whole Carmelite family together. No one is really alone as he or she strives to pray, think with the teachings of Jesus, and respond as one imagaines Jesus might have done.
Interior silence and solitude are needed as guides to God that go beyond the absence of noise or people. Self-knowledge and faith are built on these supportive structures which are as lattices for growth in giving and receiving. Carmelites do not forget others, instead they stand alone in God's presence for others. Prayers for people are offered and a greater sense of God's goodness is received. God is sought through quiet waiting and pondering and is received by unknowingly drawing closer to Jesus. Eventually, Carmelites find themselves without masks, adonrments or devotional accretions and experience true freedom in the peace of Christ. Teresa said it well:"We need no wings to go in search of him, but have only to find a place where we can be alone and look upon his presence within us."
Were one to come to a third order meeting, it might occur to one that silence and solitude are the furthest things from the ordinary Carmelite's mind. One would be inaccurate in that supposition. Gregarious, as needed, every Carmelite I know is intense inward turning and reflective. I would say that they must be among the world's most introverted people.
And more than introversion, another characteristic I have noted among my brothers and sisters in Carmel is sheer dogged determination. Later Humphreys writes "It is soon learned that Carmelites are seekers of God who are never satisfied."
Obviously so. We cannot be satisfied until we know God. And as a Carmelite, we cannot be satisfied with knowing God until we know Him as we know ourselves. There is no end to our desire to know--but it is not the same desire to know that motivates a scientist or dectective. Rather it is the desire to know that we have when we are seeking out prospective life mates. The knowledge of God we require is the knowledge of His love, and we want to know that not in our heads, but in our hearts. And more importantly, we don't just desire to know it, we desire to live it.
Each Carmelite I know is driven toward intimacy with God. The old prayers are sufficient only in so far as they advance us in intimacy with God. When they have lost this effectiveness, when we cease to move forward, they must be discarded. (I speak here for the Carmelite living out the charism of Carmel, not for every believer.)
"Silence and solitude are the wings of prayer that provide the energy for service."
Posted by Steven Riddle at 12:58 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
St. Thérèse on Prayer
Do not be afraid to tell Jesus that you love him, even if you do not feel that you love him. Prayer is a cry of gratitude and love in the midst of trial as well as in joy.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 1:17 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
October 4, 2005
Things I Delight in--Carpoids
The world of science is filled with oddities--such as the recently filmed Architeuthis. In the course of my explorations of paleontology, I have happened on many wonderful, beautiful oddities. Those of the echinoderm world are amongst the oddest. If you want to see some odd animals, google helicoplacoids some time. Or perhaps edrioasteroids.
But over chez Darwin the other day I had cause to remember the great carpoid debate. The center of the debate was taxonomic--were carpoids echinoderms or chordates. (Curiously, echinoderms are the only other major group of deuterostomes--if one holds by evolutionary theory, that would make them our closest relatives in the invertebrate world--how close that would be is still miles off--nevertheless. . . )
Anyway--get a load of these odd little guys. (Ignore the picture that says Tetragraptus, I'll get to the graptolites some other time.)
Anyway, enjoy this momentary excursion into the odd as the first of my morning offerings--a sign of the greatness and the profound love of God for His creation.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 8:48 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Let the God of All Creation Be Exalted
I will hear what the Lord God has to say,
a voice that speaks of peace,
peace for his people and his friends
and those who turn to him in their hearts.
(psalm 85 from Morning Prayer for the Feast of St. Francis)
I will hear what the Lord God has to say. Haring means more than receiving the sound. Hearing goes deeper than a passive experience. When I hear in the way the psalmist is claiming for himself I hear with the heart. I am changed by what I hear. I make what I hear my own.
And what a great gift it would be if I would open my ears to hear "a voice that speaks of peace." Rather than trying to create my own peace, my own separate heaven--I would enter His peace. As I pray this psalm, and I read these words, I prepare the ground of my heart for the blossoming of this peace, of this kingdom within.
The blossoming of peace has fruits that extend far outside my own interior realm. When I am at peace, and only when I am at peace, I can bring peace to the world. And the peace I can bring in such a state is not my own, but that of the Lord whom I serve. He blesses me with peace and hears me, not to shower His gifts merely upon me, but so that I may shower his gifts on all of His people. "Peace for his people and his friends." Peace first to those who spend the time to think about Him and talk with Him in prayer. But then also, "and those who turn to Him in their hearts." Even those who do not presently know Him by name, those who may not have become acquainted with Him in their lives--if they incline their hearts toward Him, He will see and hear and grant them also Him peace.
God cannot do other than grant peace. It is in His nature. It is part of what He is. You cannot encounter God and not reach peace. It is impossible to embrace Him and not be at peace.
If each of us were to give peace a chance to reign in our hearts, we would transform the world one person at a time. As my ever supportive wife said the other night when she saw my dismally wimpy results on the "Which General Are You?" test, "Perhaps if more were like you we would have no need of generals." I am not the example, despite her encouragement. Our example, our Peace and our Love, is Jesus Christ the Lord. In Him there is no shadow of turning.
"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." James 1:17
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Biblical Quotation to Live By for This Day: Isaiah 26:12
LORD, thou wilt ordain peace for us: for thou also hast wrought all our works in us. (KJV)
O Lord, you mete out peace to us,
for it is you who have accomplished all we have done. (NAB)
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:55 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Joining the World Birthday Celebration
Talmida wishes the world a happy birthday! 5766 years ago today, by tradition.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 10:50 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
"Sacraments Are Not a Tangible Sign of God's Grace. . ."
"and a means of bestowing it." This newsflash comes to us via the person in charge of sacramental preparation. When she asked Samuel what a sacrament was and he gave a simpler version of the answer above she responded with a very curt, "No." It was the only time in the whole evening of maundering answers and lackadaisical responses that she had said an outright no.
I stopped her in her tracks with an, "Excuse me. When did sacraments become something other than this?" When I repeated Sam's answer she backtracked and said she thought he said something different and then, she asked a seven-year-old to explain what this meant. SHE couldn't explain it, but she needed to show up a seven-year old. I'm seething, I'm furious, and I'm calling the diocesan office tomorrow. There is no excuse for this kind of behavior. If it hadn't been for Samuel mentioning it, grace would have received no mention at all. Her definition, a sacrament is an encounter with Jesus. Well that's lovely, but rather vague. Isn't prayer an encounter with Jesus? And yet prayer is not numbered among the seven sacraments. Isn't service an encounter with Jesus?
When the traditionalists complain about the "evils" of Vatican II, it is this kind of nonsense in particular, it would seem to me, that they would find troublesome. This is a perfect example of where the "spirit of Vatican II" teaching just goes off the rails and careens wildly out of control through acres of vague language and arm-waving.
Overall, the session was an excrutiating blend of vague namby-pamby nonsense and group encounter discussion about nothing of any relevance at all. I particular bristle at the fact that this will go on for three more weeks--an hour and a half of saying nothing worth saying each week. Teaching about reconcilation should take about an hour-and-a-half total and that includes memorization of an act of contrition.
I know that this lady is a paid relgious education professional. If she were a volunteer, I'd probably cut her more slack. But this is a monstrous abrogation of her responsibility to the parents and children of this class. If we had not been there, grace would have been left behind in the airy wisdom of "encounter theology."
If you can't tell it, I am furious. This teaching went in direct opposition of nearly everything we've been trying to teach Samuel in home religious eduation. Fortunately he was so tired I doubt that anything sank in at all. At least I pray it is so.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 8:49 PM | Comments (8) | TrackBack
Rum and Monkey: The Historical Lunatic Test
Which Historical Lunatic Are You?
From the fecund loins of Rum and Monkey.
I've done this one before, but people change over time. Glad to know that I'm the same lunatic today as I was some time ago!
Thanks to Hot Carmel Sundae.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:14 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
October 5, 2005
The Innocents
One of those early 60's films that were so effectively done--much like The Haunting, and it shares the same fault as The Haunting which is that it collapses the ambiguity into the original and leaves no room for the real questions raised by the original work.
The Innocents is The Turn of the Screw without the framing story. Deborah Kerr plays the governess, and does it superbly. The two children are quite good up to the end. I dare not say more but to state that the movie is completely true to the original work except as I've suggested above.
Turn of the Screw is a much more nuanced and productive work than a similar film The Rocking-Horse Winner. (May not be the title of the film, but that's the title of the D. H. Lawrence short story from which it is made. Both films have as their focus children and their "contact" with the supernatural world. The Turn of the Screw raises the question of whether the problem is located in the supernatural world or in the children themselves or in the mind of the governess. Like The Haunting of Hill House which begs the questions as to whether it is really the house that is haunted or the person, so Turn of the Screw offers this very ambiguous choice. Unfortunately the film unnecessarily collapses the choice and answers the question.
Despite this minor shortcoming, the film is beautifully done. Rich, crisp black and white photography that is never muddy or vague. Not a lot of extra "sountrack" music. A very plain, very stark, very beautifully done film. Highly recommended.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:38 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Guides On-Line
Among other things you'll find at this site at self-guided tours to a number of different battlefields. I note New Market, Second Manassas, Ball's Bluff, and Cedar Creek, in particular.
Not my cup of tea, but I suspect there are those who would appreciate these things. (Far more detail than any other than the die-hard fan can easily endure.)
Sample from second Manassas:
0300, King's Division may have withdrawn down Pageland Lane toward Manassas. And on the same day, between 0300 and 1000, Early's and Forno's Brigades of Lawton's Division moved into the fields northwest of the intersection about sunrise. The 13th and 31st Virginia were advanced as pickets just east of Stuart Hill on the other side of the nursery. Early was protecting Jackson's flank while looking for Longstreet. His men skirmished with the Pennsylvania Bucktails of Reynolds' Division.During 1000 to 1200, Longstreet's Corps arrived from Thoroughfare Gap. He immediately placed Hood's Division in this area:
On approaching the field some of Brigadier General Hood's batteries were ordered into 9 position and his division was deployed on the right and left of the turnpike at right angles with it, and supported by . . . Evans' Brigade.
Reilly's Battery (Rowan Artillery) went into position on the ridge east of the nursery (Stuart Hill).Wilcox's Division went into line on Hood's left (north).
Kemper's Division deployed south of Hood to the Manassas Gap Railroad Line.
D. R. Jones' Division moved down Pageland Lane to the south opposite Dawkin's Branch on the Manassas-Gainesville Road.
Then on 29 August at 1200 Lee established his headquarters on Stuart Hill (known as Munroe's Hill in 1862), just south of the turnpike.
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October 6, 2005
Anna's Story
The memoirs of the governess of the children of the King of Siam.
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Great Expectations
I don't know if this was my first time through or if I have merely forgotten a great deal of the plot, or if I only made it part way on one of my reads.
I don't think I need to recap the plot or provide any real detail. Most of you know it through direct acquaintance, or nodding acquaintance with one of the many films that have come from it.
In Chesterton's overview of Dickens's works, he remarks that Great Expectations is a work of Dickens's afternoon. I would say closer to late afternoon or evening. Chesterton also points out some of the charms of this book. He says it has a older, softer, rounder cynicism, a quality practically unknown in Dickens's works. He also points out that Pip is unique among Dickens's characters in being an anti-hero (although he did not have that word to use.)
My impressions--the story of maturing, and of the great loss suffered by those who choose to snub on the basis of some snobbery. A story in which the anti-hero ultimately rises to be a hero, but we hear nothing of his heroic exploits.
Beautifully written, Dickens at his very best--round, mature, fully ripened prose--not a sentence or description out of place. Dickens' may have written to be paid by the word, but he did not pad this work. Every word carries its weight and the end result is exceedingly weighty indeed.
If you have missed this work somehow, make it a point to take it up at the next opportunity. If you have read it before, set aside some time to reacquaint yourself with it. It is prose that rewards rereading and a story that has surprising depth and direction.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 6:29 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Reading Redux
You probably don't care that much for any one person's reading habits, but I'll share with you my solution to the question as to whether I would read The Portrait of a Lady or Wings of the Dove. I decided in favor of The Spoils of Poynton largely on the basis of this introduction.
It was an ugliness fundamental and systematic, the result of the abnormal nature of the Brigstocks, from whose composition the principle of taste had been extravagantly omitted.In the arrangement of their home some other principle, remarkably active, but uncanny and obscure, had operated instead, with consequences depressing to behold, consequences that took the form of a universal futility. The house was bad in all conscience, but it might have passed if they had only let it alone. This saving mercy was beyond them; they had smothered it with trumpery ornament and scrapbook art, with strange excrescences and bunchy draperies, with gimcracks that might have been keepsakes for maid-servants and nondescript conveniences that might have been prizes for the blind. They had gone wildly astray over carpets and curtains; they had an infallible instinct for disaster, and were so cruelly doom-ridden that it rendered them almost tragic. . . .
The house was perversely full of souvenirs of places even more ugly than itself and of things it would have been a pious duty to forget. The worst horror was the acres of varnish, something advertised and smelly, with which everything was smeared: it was Fleda Vetch's conviction that the application of it, by their own hands and hilariously shoving each other, was the amusement of the Brigstocks on rainy days.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 7:55 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack
October 7, 2005
"Come Let Us Worship Christ, the Son of Mary. . ."
Long time readers of this blog know that I have a real problem with the Rosary. I view praying it as a penance rather than a grace, and I have to drag myself through the prayers most times.
The antiphon above is in honor of Our Lady of the Rosary, and I thought I'd spend a couple of minutes writing about Our Lady of the Rosary and what she has done for me.
While I may not be of the right personality or demeanor to truly appreciate the beauty and wonder of the Rosary, I do have a solid appreciation for the power of its prayers. When I am stressed beyond my own ability to cope, frightened, anxious, worried, fearful, carried beyond the emotions that have a name into a realm I would rather not visit, my solid anchor is the Rosary. At that point the prayers become a sound of comfort and a promise of home. When things are going well, when I am coping reasonably well with life around me, when everything is looking up--the Rosary is a penance, a seemingly endlessly break in the day that cannot be prayed fast enough, and yet whose stately rhythms admit of only one possible pace.
When I am fearful those same tiresome rhythms, those same time-worn words, the exact same prayers that I can barely restrain my patience to pray become a lifeline. The rhythms calm the jagged rhythms of my own thoughts, they bring into line the wayward thoughts and heartaches, they restore balance. This is the gift of Our Lady to me. In times when I really need a Mother, she is there in all solace and comfort to hold me, reassure me, and guide me own my way by her prayers for me.
When I saw this morning the antiphon, "Come let us worship Christ, the Son of Mary," I was reminded once again of my brotherhood with Christ. Through my adoption into the family of God, Christ becomes both my brother and my Lord. I become part of the largest extended family in the world. It is within the bosom of this family that I am nourished and reassured, "Let nothing alarm you. . .all things are passing. . . God alone endures."
So, today I celebrate, along with all my Catholic brothers and sisters, the great gift of the Rosary. While I may not have been granted the grace or wisdom to appreciate it in all of its beauty, I have been given the gift of consolation in times of crisis--of finding a Mother when I need one.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:01 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
A Gift Via Talmida
The Lesser of Two Weevils: Look at my Sidebar!!
Talmida points us to a blog that teaches us some useful code--drop down lists. Haven't tried it yet on MT, but I should think that there would be little enough reason for it not to work, simply make the appropriate string substitutions. We shall see soon enough.
Posted by Steven Riddle at 9:17 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
A French Progressive Blog
Pens�es libres de-rebus-variis le blog de Marie
Again, via Talmida. My French is fairly good--probably not good enough to write, but reasonable for reading, and this would give me reason enough to practice. It's nice to add a new member to the family.